


Once Upon A Time ... Sansarella .

by ferociousfauna



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-04-30 01:21:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 9,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5145032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferociousfauna/pseuds/ferociousfauna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time , a beautifull maiden was locked up in a mansion with her wicked stepmother.<br/>Working, day and night and dreaming of her handsome prince, a knight in shinning armour...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sansarella at the Red Keep Mansion

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm a huge SanSan fan (really, a therapist would be waisted on me, I need a priest)  
> and also a huge fairytale fan. <3  
> I'm baking a FanFic cake with my favourite things and I'm hoping it'll come out delicous n.n

Once upon a time, in Kings Landing Village, there lived an unhappy young girl. Unhappy she was, for her mother and father were dead, and her relatives long gone and missing.

She lived in a beautiful mansion, named the Red Keep Mansion. Or for short, the Red Keep.

A mansion like no other in the village. Made of warm, red bricks with red roof tiles and a golden door with a golden lions head as a door handle. Many windows and smoking chimney.

 

Here was were the girl named Sansa lived.  
Once, when she was a little girl, she came with her father, mother, brothers and sister to the Red Keep Mansion.  
She was Daddy's Little Princess back then.  
With her pretty dress, traveling the country, coming North, to meet her fathers best friend, Robert Baratheon.

 

Robert, a rich man, was married to the most beautiful woman Sansa had ever seen, with long blonde hair, jewels and elegant dresses.  
Cersei was her name.  
She talked sweetly and praised Sansa, in whatever she did. She adored her embroidery and her singing.  
Sansa loved Cersei.  
Sansa's mother, Cat, didn't get along to well with Cersei, but Sansa didn't understand.  
And then, Cat became ill.

She got a fever and stayed in bed. Sansa's father, Ned, never went from her bed. He took care of her, helped her bathe and eat.  
Sansa got worried, and cried for her mother, praying to the Old Gods and the New she would get healhty again.

But the Gods didn't listen to Sansa, and her mother died. They barried her mother under the great weirwood tree in the garden, were Sansa prayed to the old gods and the new for understanding, why they took her mum.

The pain was consumming.  
Sansa cried her eyes out, her brothers and sister cried. Her father was defeated.  
Cersei took Sansa in her arms and let her cry on her lap.

"Oh, my little dove," she spoke. "You're mother is in heaven now, the Stranger has taken her, yes, but she's in endlessly bliss now. Stop crying"  
Sansa dried her eyes and look upon Cersei's beauitful face. Not one tear in her green eyes.

"You shouldn't behave like a peevish child, you're a woman, almost ready for marriage. You should be strong for your father and stop being sellfish."

Sansa was shocked by those words but didn't say aynything.  
Later in her bed, she taught that Cersei meant no harm with her hars words, but simply meant to not show her grief to her father, for he was inconsoblable.

She became the good little girl she was supposed to be, to please Cersei and her father.  
Her sister Arya became angry with her:

"You're turning into a lion! Have you forgotten about mother? Why aren't you howling and weeping?!"

 

Cersei spoke with Ned about his mourn.  
She convinced him to send his sons away, to the Wall Insitute, a school for young men were they would learn academics, music and military training.

She wanted them out of the way, said to Ned that was what Cat would have wanted and Ned did whatever he taught was the best for his kids

Arya was hysterical when she found out.

"HOW DARE YOU FATHER?! HOW DARE YOU SEND YOUR SONS, MY BROTHERS AWAY?!"  
"It's for the best dear... They'll learn how to become men, I can't do that on my own without your beloved mother."

"I'll never forgive you!" Arya yelled and stormed off to the garden.

"Arya!" Sansa shouted aghast. She looked at her father. It was only a week since her dear mother went to the seven heavens and her father looked 30 years older.

The next day father sent Arya overseas, to the Braavoosi Boarding School for girls.  
Her father asked her if she wanted to go, but at the age of almost 15 Sansa was to old.  
They spoke about it in the living room.

"No father, my wish is to stay here in Westeross, and find a fine man, a prince, a high lord to mary one day,"  
Her father smiled. "I'll find you a man who is brave, and gentle and strong,"  
He got her in her arms, and that was the last time Sansa felt truely happy.

Because for the next day, the Stranger took not only her father away, but also his best friend Robert in a hunting accident.  
Sansa, no brothers or sister to console her, looked for Cersei to comfort her, because she believed to woman kind.  
Wich she was... but not to Sansa.

She despiced Sansa's beauty and good personality.  
She liked her foster daughter Margaery Tyrell more and favoured her.

She took Sansa's beautifull dresses and jewels away, threw her out of her bedroom and sent her to a small room nex to the kitchen.  
She forced poor Sansa to work all day long, and laughed at her misery.

"You're not Sansa Stark anymore. You're no high maiden anymore, you're Sansa Smelly. Haha, Sansarelly!"

Sansa, in her simple grey woolen dress sat by the ashes and let tears roll over her face.  
But afther a while, there were no tears to shed anymore. They simply dried up.  
She did her work as she was told and didn't flinch when she found out that Cersei wrote to her brothers and sister that had married a young man and died in childbirth.

After a while, she forgot who Sansa Stark was.  
She only remember who Sansarelly was.

 


	2. A maiden grown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Sansa, or should we name her Sansarelly/Sansarella is a woman grown now.  
> Still dreaming of someone to love her.

Sansa woke up when the sun hit her eyes.  
She stretched herself out and yawned. It was still early.  
The birds outside were chirping and singing.  
Sansa envied them. Free they are and captive she was.  
She wished she was a bird, to fly away from this hell, to fly to her family or to the Seven Heavens, where her mother and father are.

Sansa went to the kitchen to boil some water and grabbed some stale bread to feed the chickens outside.  
Took some eggs, made breakfast for Cersei and Margeary and brought it to the dinning room.

"Sansa dear," Cersei spoke softly.  
"You wouldn't mind doing some chores for me, would you?"  
"No ma'am,"  
Cersei's eyes went tight.  
"You'll need to mob the living room and iron our newly bought fabrics. The seamstress is coming today and I don't want her to think we live in a pig stable,"  
"The seamstress?"  
"Yes, you shallow little dove, the seamstress. She'll be making myself and Margaery some new dresses for the grand ball,"

Oh yes, the ball. Sansa forgot all about that.  
The Prince of the Seven Kingdoms was all Cersei and Margaery could talk about these last days.

They've gotten a invitation for the royal ball last week, and Cersei was determined to make Margaery the new queen, so she could rule trouhg her instead.  
Sansa tought about the grand ball, the feast in honor of the Prince and wished so could go.  
She was a fine dancer and would love to be dressed in the finest silk and dance the night away with some handsome man, let alone the prince.

Humming her favourite song, she went to work.  
In the late afternoon the seamstress arrived.  
She made Cersei a beautifull gown of red and gold, and a cape made from lion fur.

Margaery, who needed to impress the Prince, got new lightgreen corset, with golden embroidery. Her skirt, made from green velvet, got a seductive split, to show off her long legs.  
She looked like a vision, and Sansa was sure the prince would think also.

"You look decent enough Margaery, I'm sure if you say the right things you could become his new bride,"  
Margeary glowed from pride. Cersei looked approving.

"Sansa," Cersei said cold. "Clean up this mess, bring the rest of the fabric to the attic, after that, make tomorrows bread,"

Cersei went to show the seamstress out, and went to the patio to drink tea with Margaery, talking about how they would sweettalk the prince.

Sansa climbed all up the attic and looked out of the window, to where, far in the distance, the palace could be seen.  
She would give anything to attend, to forget who she was and to become the high maiden Sansa Stark again.  
Dreamingly she sat on a trunk, pushing the lid away... 


	3. The Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She got bold.  
> Sansa never asked for anything, but she was determined to ask Cersei this one favour.

With a loud crack the lid fell off of the trunk. In there, a beautiful gown, from her late mothers.   
Sansa recollected some memories while she took out the dress.   
Heavy, dark blue velvet finished with lace from Bruges and a knitted cape to match.

It took Sansa back in time, home North.  
She could still see her mother dancing with her father in this dress at a fancy dinner party.  
Sansa was a little girl back then, couldn't sleep because of all the excitement downstairs and was peeking trough the door just to see the wonders of glitter and glamour the adults were having downstairs.  
She was caught by her nanny, Miss Mordane, but she didn't give her a scolding. She'd only smiled, told Sansa she'd just have to wait till she was old enough for her own parties and took her back to bed.

Sansa sighed. If only...  
Inside her heart, she felt a sprak of hope. She was a obedient girl. She never made a fuss or a drama when Cersei told her to do things.  
She didn't have no fancy dresses anymore, but she could wear this.  
Old it was, but decent enough.

She got bold.  
Sansa never asked for anything, but she was determined to ask Cersei this one favour.  
Taking the dress downstairs to her kitchen bedroom, laying it in a unused cabbinet.

She walked over to the patio, her heart pumping wild.  
Cersei and Margaery were chatting and laughing, watching the road as villagers passed, gossiping.

Sansa looked at their backs. "Cersei," Sansa started nervously.

The chatting of Cersei and Margaery stopped, but they still didn't turn around to look at her.  
They refused to acknowlegde her presence.

"Ma'am, I... I'd like to ask you a favour, from the goodness of your heart,"   
Sansa spoke softely. She regretted her boldness, feared Cersei's cold tone and Margaery's hatefullness afterwards.

"You may," Cersei spoke, still not looking at her.

"I'd wonder if...."  
"Don't you stand there daft dove! Get over here, look me in the eye when you have a request."

Sansa stumbled over to Cersei's and Margaery's bench.

"I'd wonder if I'm allowed to go to the royal ball. I'd be ever so gratefull ma'am. My work won't suffer, I promise you that. I can wear an old dress I found of my mothers, it's decent enough. You won't be embarrased. I swear ma'am, I..."  
"Stop."

Sansa felt like she was going to faint.  
Cersei's green eyes searched for Sansa's and looked into her soul. Sansa felt like being stripped naked, for Cersei's prieming eyes were determined to reveal any hidden secrets in Sansa's heart.

"I shall allow it,"

Sansa couldn't believe her eyes. She got permission?! She smiled. No, she laughed. She was esthatic! She would go to the palace, she'd have a night of fun! Oh, thank the Old Gods and the New!

"You are dismissed, check the hens for eggs before going to sleep"

Sansa run to the sideroom of the kitchen were she slept. She danced with the lazy old cat who kept her company and fetched the eggs of the chickens outside.

"Mother," Margaery wined while looking at the door. "I can't believe you did that!"  
"Hush now my little queen to be, you think I'm foolish? That girl won't take your prince away,"

Sansa didn't realise yet, that Cersei, a lion she was, liked to play with her prey before devouring it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE ALMOST AT THE PALACE YOU GUYS! ALMOST.


	4. The Weirwood Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei's look made the blood in Sansa's veins turn cold.

Sansa barely sleeped that night, for so excited she was.  
Today was the day of the Grand Ball in the Royal Palace, and she was allowed to go !  
Finally, after all these years, the Gods were kind to her.

A bell rang in the distance, and Sansa knew she was needed.  
Immediately she went to the dinning room upstairs, where Cersei awaited, still in her night shift.

"Little Dove, tonight is feast in honor of the Prince,"  
"Yes ma'am,"  
"And I've given you permission to go," Cersei spoke coldly.  
"I know ma'am, and I'm so grateful,"  
"You told me your work wouldn't suffer under it, so you need to make the beds, do the dishes and clean the bathroom, so Margaery and I can get ready early. You may take your leave,"

Sansa glowed from joy.  
She got less chores than otherwise! She too could get ready for the ball and clean up.  
Oh, maybe she'll draw attention from an attractive young man.

She'd given up dreams for a prince, a high lord or a knight long time ago.  
Her father was no more on this earth to find Sansa a fine husband. But maybe she'd find someone who'd do her just, who'd take her away from the Red Keep Mansion.  
A nice man, brave and gentle and strong, like her father promised her once.  
And while she doing her chores, she was daydreaming once more.

Time flew by, and it was allready late afternoon when Sansa was ready with her chores.  
Cersei came to the kitchen and bid her to clean hersellf up and get ready for the ball.  
Sansa took a warm bath she made for herself in an old tub in her bedroom.  
She took her mum's old dress out of the cabbinet and pulled it on. It fitted heavenly!  
Her hair in a long braid over her back, the skirt of the dress wide enough to cover her simple shoes.  
  
She looked in the mirror to her reflection. She didn't look like a high maiden, but she didn't look like a beggar no more.  
  
She went upside the stairs to the living room, where Cersei and Margaery stood in their fine new gowns, covered with jewelery and shimmer.  
Rosy cheeks, red lips and fine curls, they looked stunning.

"Sansa dear, we'll be leaving in an hour. I asume you're done with all your chores?"  
"Yes ma'am, I'm ready, I cleaned the bathroom first and..."  
"You did the dishes?"  
"Yes ma'am,"  
"Made the beds?"  
"Yes ma'am,"  
"Did you pick out the lentils from the ashes?" Cersei asked coy.

Sansa was speachless.  
"The... the lentils ma'am?"  
"Yes my little dove, the lentils. I've dropped a bowl in the ashes when I was in the kitchen,"

Margaery looked pleased at Sansa's misery.  
"You need to clean that up first dear,"  
"But I don't have the time!" Sansa cried. "It's not fair Cersei, I..."

She said the wrong words. Cersei's look made the blood in Sansa's veins turn cold.  
"Fairness? I take you in my house, take care of you, feed you, cloth you... and you say I'm not treating you fair?"

Sansa was sobbing.  
"You can't come now anymore, daft dove you are. You stay at home, pick out the lentils and think about your sins against me. If not, you'll be homeless tomorrow. Know your place, Sansarella. Let's go Margaery,"

Sansa stood in the doorway with her mothers fine dress, crying.  
She went to the fireplace and took a bowl in her hand, picking out the lentils out of the ashes.

But her sadness was so overwhelming that tears filled her eyes, and she couldn't even see the lentils in the ashes.  
She decided to visit her mothers grave, under the weirwood tree behind the hosue, the forget about her pain and sorrow.

Crying at the grave, she looked at the magnificent tree, with thick branches and beautifull leaves.  
If only... If only her mother in the Seven Heavens could help her. She spoke the words:

**Shake and quiver, little tree,**  
**Throw gold and silver down to me.**

But nothing.

"Well... That didn't go as asspected I believe?" she heard a voice say.

Sansa turned around terrified, looking at a big rock where a little man was sitting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna make a guess who I've made the Fairy Godmother? (;  
> Okay, we're ALMOST in the castle, I swear to God.


	5. The Transformation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She closed her eyes and turned away, and felt her body trembling by fear. She embraced herself and felt... Silk?

Sansa was thunderstruck.

On a big rock behind her, overgrown with moss, a tiny man was sitting, dressed in white.  
His nose was damaged, his posture small, his hair messy.  
He took Sansa's staring in, but didn't look offended.

"How are you Ser?"

"Ah, legimate question," the little man spoke.  
He jumped of the rock and waddled towards Sansa. He pulled Sansa out of the shadows from the weirwood tree.  
His hands were warm.

In the moonlight Sansa got a better view of him. Small he was, but he had kind eyes and a nice smile.  
Sansa felt at ease, she didn't know who this man was, but she trusted him.

"My name, child, is Tyrion"

"Excuse me ser Tyrion, but what are you doing in my garden?"  
"I've been sent,"  
"By who Ser Tyrion?"  
"By the God of tits and wine,"

Sansa's turned red.

"You were crying at the weirwood tree,"   
Sansa didn't know that was a question or an observation.   
"Yes, I have ser," she answerd.  
"Tell me why," he commanted.

"Because,...." Sansa doubted... Her heart told her she could trust this man, but she didn't know how she could explain herself. How could se describe her desire to forget who she was, just for one night?  
"Because I don't want to be locked away in this mansion, taking care of my wicked stephmother and her foster daughter anymore. I want to forget who I am, just for one night."  
"And who are you my lady?"  
"Sansarella..."  
"Odd name isn't it?"  
"It's not my real name,"  
"What is your real name miss?"  
"Sansa. My name is Sansa. Sansa Stark."  
"Never forget who you are lady Sansa,"  
  


He pulled away from Sansa, looking at her.  
"You will attent that ball, lady Sansa,"  
"But how? I don't have anything to wear, I don't have a horse or a carriage... I have nothing."  
"But I do,"

He reached with his tiny hand in his jacket, and pulled out a bottle with a weird substance in it.   
It looked like a weird, glittery, icy blue liquid... but also like a gass at the same time. He pulled out the cork and trew the substance at Sansa.

Sansa was frightned, because the light the substance had was blinding.  
She closed her eyes and turned away, and felt her body trembling by fear. She embraced herself and felt... Silk?

She hadn't worn no silk?

Astonished she opend her eyes and looked down at herself.   
She doesn't know how lord Tyrion had done it, but a dress had apeared where her late Mothers dress was before.  
A gown in electric blue silk, fitted at the right places. Her neckline uncoverd, her bosom seductevly but still modest.  
Her shoulders wrapped in decorative sleeves and silver embroidery with pearls and diamonds, all over her corset.  
She pulled her skirt a little bit up to look at her feet, and she wore beautifull glass slippers.

She ran to the pond to look at herself.  
Even her hair was diffrent; her simple braid was turned into a fishtail braid, with fine flowers woven into it.

Sansa got tears in her eyes, once again.  
She stormed towards Tyrion.  
"My lord," she cried happily, "I'm so gratefull, I can't believe you've done this for me, I look more beautifull than ever,"  
Tyrion smiled, a smile that reminded her of her father.

"I'm glad to make you happy sweet girl. Now, for your carriage and ride"  
He took a little box with yellow powder out of his pocket and blew it towards the large rock he'd been sitting upon first.  
De rock grew and grew, got wheels, a door, windows, curtains,... Slowely it transformed into a carriage, horses included.

"Oh my," Sansa was astonished by the magical power Tyrion had.  
"Off you go my Lady," Tyrion said while he helped Sansa into the carriage.  
"But I must warn you, at midnight, the spell will be broken,"  
"That's more than I need lord Tyrion, I'm so gratefull,"  
Sansa gave him a peck on his cheek.

"Have fun dear girl,"  
And off she went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking I should make a picset, but really have no clue how. Any tips are welcome. ^^  
> Everyone feeling the Tyrion as a fairy godfather thing?


	6. The Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why are you not standing there?" a rough voice barked from her left.  
> In the shadows, near the refreshments and an open window, a large man stood.  
> A full glass of wine in his big hands, his dark hair messy.  
> Sansa couldn't see him good, cause the moonlight turned him into a large, black shadow.

The carriage cracked and squaeked, but Sansa was comfortable in it.  
She was staring out of the window, resting her head on her shoulders, staring at the wide world behind the glass.

When the palace came closer, the trees became less frequent.  
Until she reached far broad fields of grass and sunflowers, where the road was made bigger to fit several carriages.  
The palace loomed in her sight.

A beautifull yellow golden castle it was actually, roughly build with great rocks and watchtowers with guards, but fine with details.  
Symmetry in the windows as she could count even numbered windows, flags waving happily in the wind.  
She passed fountains and more flowers, and well maintained gardens.   
Behind the palace, Sansa could see some hills and a great forest.

When she went trough the Castle Gates, guard dogs came running up to her carriage, happily barking, waggling their tale.  
She was finally, at Clegane Castle.

She stepped out of the carriage with help of some guardsman, straightend her skirt and walked up the castle stairs to the castle door.  
Guards swung the door open for her, and she saw a red carpet underneath her feet.  
She followed the carpet, arriving in the main hall.

The main hall of Clegane Castle was crowded.  
All high lord and ladies, twirling and flirting.  
Artist played a song she didn't recognise.   
She looked up upon the throne, but the throne was empty.

The prince didn't arive yet.

Sansa felt people staring. Eyes crawled over her back.  
She felt desire by some, jealousy by others.  
She blushed and walked over to the refreshments for a glass of wine, to help her calm her nerves.

Nipping at her glass of sweet, white wine she stood at the wall, making herself invisible.  
She didn't feel like she belonged here, with all these posh people.  
She wasn't a Lady anymore, she was used on being a servant girl for 3 years now, she barely felt at place now.  
She didn't want any eyes on her, she just came here to have fun, to have a wonderfull evening, to be away from her reality.

Girls all over the kingdom were dressed up in fine dresses and gowns, searching a place in the spotlight to drawn attention for the prince when he arrives.  
Sansa recognized, far away in the distance, Cersei pushing Margaery in the middle of the dancefloor, in the hope for being the first glimpse of the prince.

"Why are you not standing there?" a rough voice barked from her left.  
In the shadows, near the refreshments and an open window, a large man stood.  
A full glass of wine in his big hands, his dark hair messy.  
Sansa couldn't see him good, cause the moonlight turned him into a large, black shadow.

"Excuse me, my lord?"  
"Not a lord! Nor a ser, I spit on those buggering tittles," he mutterd.  
"I'm afraid I don't understand what you meant,"  
The large man snorted.  
"What I meant little bird, shouldn't you be standing there? In the spotlight, the centre of attention. Showing off your pretty feathers, chirping nice songs to impress some fucker who happens to own a castle and a kingdom? The other girls are. Look at those highborn cunts with their daughters. Stuffing their offsprings heads with the idea that being a princess would solve all of their problems, HA!"

The man sounded hard and cold, his voice bitter.  
Sansa didn't know who this man was, but is words frightend her.

"You're scarring me," she admitted.  
"Why?" the large man snapped. "Because I'm telling it you the way it is? Where is your father? Shouldn't he be pushing you to the dance floor?"  
"My father and mother are dead," tears welled up in Sansa's eyes.  
This stranger was upsetting her. She looked down to cover her tears, to not show him any grief. She took in a deep breath.  
"My father wished for me, a man who is gentle and brave and strong. Like my father was. But my father was taken by the Stranger and I'm all alone now. But I can imagne these parents wanting the same for their daughters,"  
"No, they wish a prince and pile of gold! Any of these girls are with their head in the clouds, dreaming of diamonds and a crown on their head, and a handsome cunt by their side"  
"I refuse to believe that,"  
  


He laughed bitterly at her.  
"You refuse to believe they want gold? That they want fame? That they want a handsome knight to take them into their marriage bed?"  
Sansa was getting annoyed by this stranger, asking her all those questions and giving no answers in return.  
He tought she was a silly little bird, a daft dove as Cersei called her. Well she was not.

"What does it matter what the man looks like!"  
"Everything,"

Did he sounded defeated? What a strange man this was.

"Well, it's not."

He rose from his hiding spot and walked upon her. He grew with every step he took.  
She could see his muscular body, his broad shoulders, his thick black hair, stubbles upon his face, grey stormy eyes and...  
Half his face, covered in the scars of an old burn.

He took her hand and pulled Sansa closer.  
"Here's pretty for ya! What do you say little bird? No nice songs to chirp about this right? You're telling me people would forget what I looked like when I'm gentle and brave and strong or whatever the fuck your father told you about men?!"  
Sansa forced herself to look into those stormy grey eyes.  
Filled with rage they ware, but deeper inside, she could see pain and sorrow.  
"You've not been gentle with me Ser,"  
"I told you before, I'm not a ser!"  
But he softend his grip on her wrist.

Sansa smiled sweetly at him.  
Those grey eyes reminded her off her late fathers.  
They looked familiar.

"Are you affraid, little bird?"  
"No... I'm not."  
"I can sniff out a lie you know,"  
"I'm not lying." she breathed heavily. This man made her... feel. Feel what? Confused. Definitly confused.   
  
"You won't hurt me?"  
He finnaly let go of her, carefully caressing her wrist were he'd holden her.  
"No, little bird," he whispered to her. "I won't."

"Excellency," a guard appeared from behind them. "Have you chosen a girl to open the ball?"  
Sansa gasped for air.   
He was the prince?!

He looked with his stormy eyes to Sansa, the rage and the sadness gone and replaced with... something she couldn't describe.

"Yes. Yes I have,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, Sansa refers to Clegane Castle as a palace, but I imagne a manly kind of castle, wich is given a "palace" look because of the (feminime) details.   
> I didn't think it was a good idea to just, magically let Sandor be Prince Charming, I think it's quite possible for him to hide in a corner minding his own business.


	7. The Waltz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The waltz was coming to an end. The prince and Sansa stopped their dance and just stood there, in the middle of the dancefloor, looking at eachother.

He offered her his arm and Sansa hesitatingly accepted.  
The prince! This foul-mouthed man was the prince!

She hadn't know, she didn't know.  
Her heart was pumping outragous, her palms were sweating, she turned pale.  
She didn't know what to do.   
He pulled her closer, leading the way to the dance floor.

Sansa wished she'd turn invisible, unrecognizable for Cersei and Margaery.  
She hoped that everybody just stopped looking at them.

"Whats the matter little bird? I'm going to believe you don't like to dance?"  
He hold her close, music started to play a waltz.  
Twirling around, Sansa adverted his eyes.   
"You lied to me," she mumbled.

He gave her a severe look.

"No, I didn't. I'm no liar girl,"  
"You said you were no Ser!"  
"Wel, I'm not. I'm the prince," he chuckled.    
"You're his royal highness! I shouldn't have adressed you as less,"  
"Listen to me, little bird," he spoke. "I don't give a rats ass about titles. I happen to be born a prince. I never asked for this you know,"  
"Is that why you were hidden in the dark your highness?"  
"I guess. Didn't really want this whole ball to be honest. My grandmother taught it was a good idea. You know, to meet people," he confessed.

Sansa glanced at the throne. Empty it was before, now a small, grey lady with an thick yellow gown had taken place.   
Sansa had heard about the Queen. After her son and daughter in law had died, she had ruled the kingdom in name of the young prince, who had been to young to rule.  
But she refused any cornation. The queen had stated that she wasn't no queen of a kingdom, just a mother to many children, all over the kingdom.  
The cornation would be for when the prince had come of age and married.

"You're supposed to find a bride," Sansa said to him, still looking at the Queen.  
"Ay, that's the plan I suppose,"  
"You shouldn't  be dancing with me," Sansa's feet got heavy and she lowerd her shoulders. "You should mary some noble girl, an high born maiden. You shouldn't be dancing with me,"  
"But I am dancing with you little bird, and I like it. These spoiled brats wouldn't even look at me if I were a butchers boy instead of a prince. That's why I wanted to dance with you. You didn't flinch at the ugly sight of me,"

The waltz was coming to an end. The prince and Sansa stopped their dance and just stood there, in the middle of the dancefloor, looking at eachother.  
He was looking at her, still holding her hand, and Sansa felt warm inside. She'd never felt this way before.   
The people all around them she was long forgotten, she didn't hear no music, she didn't hear no talking.  
She had attention for one man, and one man only.

"Care for another dance little bird?"  
"Yes, m'lord,"  
"Sandor. My name is Sandor,"  
She smiled at him. "Sandor,"

The orchestra started playing a new song.   
And another one.  
And after that, yet another one.

Only she danced with the prince.  
He'd was as if he'd only eyes for her.   
Dancing away all of her sorrows, al of her pain. She felt at home in his strong arms.

Other guest begane to dance and the dancefloor got so crowded Sansa nearly had place to put her foot down.  
All flushered she was waving herself some air.  
"You want some fresh air little bird?"  
"Yes, I'd love to Sandor,"

He smiled when she used his name.  
He helped her trough the crowd and took her outside.  
They walked down the stairs and came into the garden.


	8. The Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "YOUR NAME!" she heard Sandor screaming at the top of his longs.

The grass underneath her feet was moist.  
Apparently it had rained when they were dancing inside.  
The ground was a little bit soggy and Sansa tried to keep her balance.   
Sandor noticed and held her closer.

"You allright little bird?"  
"Yes I am,"

They went to a bench, sitting next to eachoter, just staring at the fountains and the garden.  
In the distance, a few woodland animals could be spotted.

"It's so beautiful here," she said to the prince.  
Dreamingly, she put her head down on his shoulder.

She jumped right up. "I'm sorry Sandor, that wasn't quite appropriate,"  
He shruged nonchalantly. "I don't mind little bird, I don't mind at all"  


He kept her gaze and returned it. 

"In fact... it is quite beautiful here,"

The way he spoke maked Sansa doubt he was still talking about the garden.  
Wich made her flushered and warm and nervous.

This whole night had been so... magical.   
Sansa stared in his eyes, at his lips. If she'd kiss him, she wondered, would his lips be soft and harsh at the burnt edge?  
Would she be allowed to caress his cheek, to whisper and whimper in his ear?

She felt curious after him. She wanted to explore his lips.   
He looked down at their lap and Sansa's gaze followed.  
Their hands, barely touching eachoter.  
Sandor's hand was twitching. He looked as if he was hasitating.

Sansa took his hand and pulled it on her lap, showing him she wasn't afraid of the intimacy, she wasn't afraid of him.  
That she wanted it.

His other hand went to her face and carresed her cheek, and before she even know what was happening he kissed her lips.  
A shakingly kiss, hardly touching her lips, but a kiss nevertheless.

He broke the kiss off and looked away from Sansa's gaze, his neck slighty coloured red.  


"I'm sorry little bird, I shouldn't have,"  
"Yes you should," 

Sansa was perplexed by herself.

"Kiss me again Sandor,"  
She reached out for him and he met her halfway. Their lips touching and discovering eachother.  
He pushed her closer and she embraced him.  
She felt his tongue opening her mouth and she let him.  


She carresed his shoulders, his back, his neck, his chest,...

** DING DONG. **

Sansa hastily got up.  
Oh no, it's almost midnight! The spell!  


"I need to go," she cried out and she run off, leaving Sandor on the bench. **DING DONG.**  


"What?" he spoke confused. He still had a smile on his lips, the lips were Sansa just kissed him.  
"WAIT WHAT?!" he exclaimed when he saw her running off. **DING DONG.**

Sansa had tooken advantage of his slow notion of the fact that Sansa was running away from him.  
She ran and ran, but her shoes didn't make it easy to run.  
She ran trough the crowd at the door where her carriage was lined up.  
Sandor was following her, much faster than she! **DING DONG.**

She kicked out the shoes and ran barefoot at her carriage, disconnecting one of the horses from her carriage.  
She jumped on the back of the horse and got away as fast as she can. **DING DONG.**

"YOUR NAME!" she heard Sandor screaming at the top of his longs.

Warm tears ware falling over her face as she saw Sandor falling on his knees in the dry sand on the path before his palace.  
She rode as fast she could heading home.  
They couldn't keep up with her at this pace, and she was allready long gone when the clock hit 12.

When the clock hit twelve, the enchantment was broken and the horse changed into a lizzard.  
Her dress turned into dust and her hair came lose.  
She runned as fast as she could to the Red Keep Mansion, hiding herself in the kitchen near the ashes.

Cersei and Margaery weren't home, but Sansa expected them any moment.

Thinking about Sandor, the ball, the kiss, made Sansa weep.  
And she cried herself to sleep at the fireplace.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, she kicks out both of her heels because did you ever try running in heels?  
> Always found it stupid that the Prince needs 1 shoe toe find his "true love", Sandor ain't like that because he ain't no idiot.


	9. Queen Aleanor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looked up to his grandma, expecting her to look disapproving, but instead, she smiled again.  
> "Don't go subbing darling," she reached out at something behind her back. "Go find her,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short fic, because I want to show you guys how Sandor's been doing.

He had never felt like this before.  
He couldn't believe what just happend. His mind was playing tricks on him.

First, he meets the most beautiful girl in the whole damn kingdom, who happens to be a nice girl too, unafraid by the looks of him.  
Second, he's dancing and twirling all around this godsforsaken dancefloor, like some fool.  
Third, he's kissing with this girl with hair of fire and lips to match.

And then she suddenly just run off?

He got off the ground, pondering about what just exactly had happend.  
Did he offend her by kissing her? But she kissed him right back!  
Had he said something cruel? Probally, but he was quite busy with his lips and hadn't use it for talking.  
He brushed off the dust on the knees of his trousers and stared into the darkness.

He went trough his hair, still trying to understand the developments of that evening.

"Sent everyone home," he spoke to the Head of Guards. "The feast is over,"  
Bitterly he turned around, leaving everybody behind and went to the stables across the garden.  
If those damn stables were anywhere closer he could have jumped on his horse, Stranger, and retrieve his little bird.

_His little bird. Who got wings all of the sudden and flew off._

He brushed is scarred cheeck, feeling a dull ache when he came close to his lips.  
He could still feel those pouty, red lips...

"Sandor,"  
He turned around and saw Queen Aleanor, standing in the doorway.  
Her long grey hair in an elegant knot, a small tiara with onyx gemstones in it. She had alwasy refused a cornation, refused to wear a crown on her haed, but accepted this small token of appreciation from Sandor. She wore it all day, every day.

"What happend?"

His grandmother, wise and loved by all, smiled at him. An understanding smile.  
How could she even understand when HE didn't understand?!

"Fuck," he spoke, ignoring the way his grandma always looked at him when u cursed.  
"I don't know! She just run off,"

Defeated, he let himself fall on a bale of hay. "She just fucking run off and I'm not in the mood for pretending I'd like to be at that fucking ball,"

"You seemed to like her? She seemed to like you as well, I'd notice,"  
"You wouldn't know,"  
"Sandor, ignorant boy, she was devouring you like a starving wolf,"

He looked up to his grandma, expecting her to look disapproving, but instead, she smiled again.  
"Don't go subbing darling," she reached out at something behind her back. "Go find her,"  
  
And she placed two glass slippers in his hands.

 

 

 

The next morning Sandor sat on Stranger, who was neighing unpatiently.  
"Men," Sandor spoke to his soldiers.  
"We're going to find her. Every house we will visit, every maiden we will question, and we won't stop until we find her!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I named Sandor's grandmother Aleanor.  
> Because of the -OR ending actually.  
> In this kingdom, the royal family had his names ending with OR.  
> Plus, I find it sounding quite Southern and royal.


	10. Heartache and other bruises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who was she talking about? Was she talking about Sandor?  
> Did he... Did he return at the party once she fled?  
> She turned pale.  
> He returned to the party and had another girl caught her eye?

The first thing she felt when she woke up was heartache.  
The second thing she felt were blisters on her feet and stiff muscles from sleeping in an uncomfortable position by the fireplace.

The sun was slowly rising, just peaking above the skyline, turning the morning skye pink before it'd would be blue.

Sansa got up and walked over to the stove to make Cersei & Margaery breakfast.  
She turned cold at the thought of them.  
Would they have recognized her at the ball yesterday?  
When she danced, oh so lovely, with the handsome prince?

With her stomach in a knot her mind went of to Sandor.  
His scarring may be gruesome, his manners may be gruff, but he was so much more.  
He was a man of contradictions, wich she loved.

_Loved._

Sansa caught herself using that word.  
Love. Did she love Sandor?

She loved the way how is arms were hard from his muscles, yet soft when she holded him.  
She loved the way how he moved, coarse when running after her, ellegant while dancing.  
She loved the way how his kisses were given and demanding.She loved how his harsh words were spoken softly.  
She loved his eyes.

Tears started to run over her cheeck.  
She loved Sandor, with whole her heart, and she'd never seen him again!

He'd become a memory, a dream, a wish.  
But he'd become never hers.

He couldn't become hers even if he could.  
He was a prince, she nothing more than a maidservant at the Red Keep Mansion.

She whiped the tears of her face and went back to work.  
She couldn't show Cersei any of her hidden feelings, for her own safety.

Freshly baked bread in one hand, she went to the dinning room to set the table.  
She was decorating the room with a vase with flowers when Cersei and Margaery entered, Margaery whining.

"Tea Sansa," Cersei spoke cold, with her eyes as ice.

Sansa got nervous. She knows! She looks like as she knows! What would she do?

She got the teapot and the hot water, brought it back in the dinning room.  
Margaery was still nagging.

"Did you notice him? Drooling like a lovesick puppy he was!"

Who was she talking about? Was she talking about Sandor?   
Did he... Did he return at the party once she fled?  
She turned pale.  
He returned to the party and had another girl caught her eye?

"And that girl, that tacky redhead he danced with! That blue gown with fake diamonds all over... Tasteless!"

Redhead? She... She was talking about Sansa!  
She glanced at Margaery and Cersei.  
Margaery obviously didn't recognize Sansa, but how about Cersei.

"Yes," Cesrei spoke, catching Sansa's glaze, holding it with her icy eyes.  
"Sansa, the most strange thing happend yesterday evening,"

Oh no.

"A girl arrived yesterday. Flirting scandalously with the prince, dancing with him all night long and when the clock stroke midnight she fled his ugly face,"  
Sansa felt rage in her chest but used every cell in her body to keep calm.  
"An ugly moster he is, but still a prince. Not something a girl would run away from,"  
She nibbled at her tea.  
"But that hair. That's a particular color you don't see every day,"

She looked Sansa traight in the eye.  
A deafening silence.

"Do you have any family left?" Margaery shrieked at the top of her voice, knocking over a jug of milk.

"What?" Sansa was bewilderd.  
"No, I don't have any family left, I... It wasn't me! I was here all night! I swear"

Cersei snorted. "Offcourse I know that you daft little dove! But still I wonder... I'm not stupid! I know your whole family is dead and burried. But I'll tell you, that girl and you. The similarity. The hair. It's the same. Maybe she's a Northern girl to. Maybe she is you. Thing is, the Prince fell madly in love with that skank and he's searching for her. So I'll need to luck you up, untill he's passed so he wont do something stupid like thinking your the same girl,"

She pulled Sansa's at the hair.  
And she pulled hard. "And if you found a way... To ignore my will, to go to that feast after I forbade you... You'll regret it, every day of your miserable life,"

Sansa stared screaming. Cersei pulled her towards the basement.   
Margaery followed, got a rope and tied Sansa up. They gagged her, put her on a chair out of sight of the door.

Sansa felt like retching. Her cries where silenced by the gag.  
She heard Cesei lock the door, and she was left all alone in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sansa.   
> Remember, the original fairytales were cruell and so is Cersei, so the gagging and tying her up,... Part of the story.
> 
> Tell me what you think !


	11. The Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor Clegane could sniff out a lie easily. He'd always know when he was being lied to. And this women just lied to him.  
> He needed to find out why. The tall blonde kept talking while he looked at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omj319: Something is happening in this chapter for you! Hope you enjoy ! :D

His men ware getting tired. They were thirsty and hungry, but they continued to travel at his side without complaining.   
At the start of dawn he had gathered his soldiers and most trusted craftsman, since then they were on the road in separate groups.   
Everyone he could use to find his little bird.

He brought 10 guard of their notorious guard dogs.  
He even brought the youngest of the dogs, Lady.  
Soft and feminime with a damn good nose.  
The dogs followed him when he rode to the next house.

A mansion with red roof tiles at an isolated place.  
Two women, dressed up as if they were expecting him (they probally were, the whole kingdom knew of his quest) standing at the patio.

They bowed when he arrived with his Head of Guards and 2 other members of his Kingsguard.

"Your Highness," the eldest of the two women spoke.  
An attractive woman she was, but her eyes didn't smile and her tongue sounded sharp.  
Next to her a young women, about the age of his little bird, with brown curls falling behind her back.  
She kept blinking seductivly at him.  
Well, she tried it was seductivly he suppose. It looked more like she had a bug in her eye, desperate to get it out.

"Would you care for a drink my Highness? And your men?"   
No he would not, but he looked at his man, dehydrated and weary.

"Thank you My Lady, we've been travelling all day. A glass of water if it's not to much trouble,"

"Not at all My Lord, Margaery will see to your needs,"  
Did she meant to make that ambiguous? Damn wenches.

They walked inside.   
Margaery went to what he assumed was the kitchen to fetch their drinks.  
The blonde women bid them to sit.

Sandor was getting impatient. He was waisting valuable time, but he couldn't deny his men a five minute rest.  
Margaery walked in with classes and a jug of water. She almost tripped while carrying the tray, like she'd never done so before.

"Thank you Lady Margaery," Sandor spoke.  
Margaery took the chair next to him, her long legs stretching as if trying to touch them. This wench...

"My lord, how can we be of your service?" the tall blonde spoke. He hated when they called him My Lord. But he wouldn't waste any energy on correction them, he had more important business on his mind.  
"Do you live here alone with your daughter?"  
"Yes my Lord,"

A lie.

Sandor Clegane could sniff out a lie easily. He'd always know when he was being lied to. And this women just lied to him.  
He needed to find out why. The tall blonde kept talking while he looked at her.

"My name is Cersei Lannister, and Margaery is not my daughter. I'm widowed and I've taken Margaery in all these years ago,"  
She came closer.  
"We've heard of your unfortunate meeting with the girl you danced with yesterday. Such a pity my Lord,"

The skanky brunette Margaery had put her hand on his lamp to show her sympathy. Felt more like she wanted to grab his cock, he knocked her hands off.

"Some maidens can't be trusted, rising the blood of men, disposing them as they grow bored. Perhaps you won't find your maiden again, but maybe you'll finde someone better,"  
Cersei looked at him intens while Margaery cringed once again closer. Did Cersei had a bruise on her hands...?  
Sandor got up, putting his glass on the table.  
"We haven't found what we were looking for, we'll be going," he interrupted her.

He took her hand, as if he was gonna kiss it, inspected her bruises more and saw... an auburn hair on her sleeve.

Red as fire.  
His little bird.

He took Cersei's wrist and slammed her against the wall.

"WHERE IS SHE?!"

Cersei's harsh eyes glared at him, her upper lip stiff out of stuborness.  
The guards kept a crying Margaery under control.

He tossed her aside on the bench, feathers flewing everywhere as a cushion exploded.  
He grabbed Margaery by the shoulders.   
"Where. The. FUCK. Is. She?!"   
Whimpering, Margaery pointed at a white door across the room with a trembling finger.

"The cellar,"

He stormed at the door, pulling at the doorknob. Closed.  
He made a run-up and kicked the door, which collapsed at his strenght.

A piece of wood stuck in his leg, blood dripping down.  
He pulled it out, tossed it aside and went into the basemant.

His little bird.  
In the middle of the cellar, tied up on a chair, gagged with a piece of cloth, terrified and crying. She tried to scream, but the piece of cloth was suffocating her slowly.

"Little bird,"

He stepped out of the shadows.  
She immediately stoped shrieking and turned pale.  
Her eyes big, her breath stalking.

He ran over her, untyign her and taking the cloth out of her mouth.

"You've came for me," she spoke. Her voice coarse by the torment.  
"Yes little bird, I've come for you,"

She looked at him.

"Sansa,"

And he was the last thing Sansa saw before she fainted.


	12. The Bee Hive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collective gasp from everyone in the room while they looked at Sansa.  
> Black and blue bruises, white as a sheet, her auburn hair tangled.

Her name was Sansa.

He carried her out of the basement, stepping over the clutter he'd made while kicking in the door.  
Against his chest he could feel her warmth.  
He stepped into the light of the living room where his guards were held down.

A collective gasp from everyone in the room while they looked at Sansa.  
Black and blue bruises, white as a sheet, her auburn hair tangled.

She wore a thick, simple brown dress. A bit to short, so you could see her ankles.  
Her apron soiled with marks of hard labour.

She didn't look like the princess she was yesterday, but she still looked like a little bird.

"YOU!"

A guard forced Cersei to lift her head up, so he could look her straight in the eye.  
Instead of adverting his eyes, she glazed at them.

"You did this to her," he spoke bitterly.  
"And you!" he snarled at Margaery.  
"Both of you are under arrest by athority of me, Prince Sandor Clegane. You'll be banished to the coldest, darkest cell in the dungeon I can find. OFF WITH YOU!"

The guards pushed to the women outside.  
Not a kart in sight, Sandor made the women walk behind and in front of his guards while he took the little bird on his horse.

"I'll be heading home straight away, the little bird needs a maester!"  
  


While riding Stranger towards home he held the little bird close.   
Her warmth was fading, she turned paler with the minute.  
Sweat appeared on her brow.

When he finally arrived in the front yard of the castle he shouted at his guards to fetch the maester.  
He almost bashed the gate of the castle in his hury.

Queen Aleanor was sitting on the throne, drinking tea with some nobleborn women.

"Sandor?" she questioned.  
Sandor, desperate for his little bird to wake up, marched upto his grandma with a desperate look on his eyes.

"The girl? What happend?"   
"She fainted, she won't wake up!"

He heard the own panic in his voice.  
He felt his hands trembling while desperatly trying to hold the little bird firmly.  
He felt roundings of her body yet wasn't aroused. The only thing he cared for was her to wake up again, just to wake up.   
To hear her voice.

His grandma clapped in her hands.  
"Maidens! A bath to my chambers! Now!"

The highborn ladies complety forgotten, she led Sandor the way to her bedchambers.  
Gently, he lay her on the bed.

While the handmaidens arrived with the water for the bed, another one stared to make a fire, another one brought in the maester (who clearly had been running here).  
Like a bee's hive it was.  
He felt a small hand on his back and saw his grandma pushing him out of the room.

"You shouldn't be here Sandor, I'll take care of her while the maester examines her. Me and my handmaidens will take care of her, I promise,"

She shutted the door and Sandor stared at it.  
Unwillingly to leave, he went to the oppiste wall, leaned against it when he sinked onto the floor and waited.


	13. The Keyhole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh dear, I forgot my reading glasses," his grandma spoke. "I really should go get them..."  
> Since when did his grandmother needed reading glasses he wondered?

2 days had passed since he left his little bird in the care of his grandmother.  
And those 48 hours he had waited like a lap dog across from the door.

He refused to leave his spot. He only left when he needed to go to the bathroom.  
But all his time he spent waiting at the door.  
Servants had brought him food and water.  
2 of his stronger guards moved a comfortable sofa to the hallway for him to rest on, which another handmaiden made a bed on.  
  


He was forworn, rubbing sleep and sorrow out of his eye when he heard a squeak.  
Slowly, the door of Sansa's room (well, actually his grandmothers room) opened and his grandmother stepped out.

He jumped up, looking for her eyes, praying for some news of his little bird. Queen Aleanor smiled at him.

"The fever broke boy, she'll be allright,"

Sandor felt overjoyed. Sansa was allright.  
A weight fell off his shoulders.

"She needs to rest some more today, eat and drink enought to regain her strenght, but after that... She'll be allright. Maybe you can take a bath in the maintime?"  
"Yeah, I suppose I could do that,"  
"You do that. The girl asked for you. Several times actually," Queen Aleanor's eyes twinkled. "Wouldn't want to dissapoint her by looking like a beggar,"

Sandor smiled. He bid a servant to fill up his bathtub and to bring him fresh clothes.

Time went by slowly.  
He waited for supper in the dining room.  
Finally, his grandmother arrived with Sansa on her arm.  
Sansa wore an old dress of Aleanor, a bit to at the ankles with a woolen shawl around her.  
She still looked pale, but her delicious lips were pink again.  
At the sight of him, she blushed.

Sandor offered her a chair and helped her down.  
He choose the seat in front of her.  
She looked at him, her cheeks turned reddish, but she smiled.  
And he smiled right back.  
It turned in a game, giving smiles and recieving them.

Sandor took a bite of his food, without realising what he was eating, because all of his attention went to Sansa.  
When the servents cleared the table he offered her his arm to go sit at the fireplace.

"Oh dear, I forgot my reading glasses," his grandma spoke. "I really should go get them..."  
Since when did his grandmother needed reading glasses he wondered?  
She left the two of them behind, en they were completly alone.  
Sansa quivered. "Are you cold little bird?"  
She nodded in response. He got up, retrieved his jacket and wrapped it around her.  
His hands were on her shoulders and she looked at him.

Wit her eyes on his, smiling at him, he couldn't never feel any cold, because her smile gave him the warmest, most pleasent feeling he ever had.

"You came for me,"

He didn't need to ask what she was talking about.

"Yes,"  
"Why?"

He hesitated. He couldn't describe what it was that drove him to search Sansa. He couldn't describe how she made him feel.   
Words wouldn't be enough.

"I... I couldn't let you go. I needed to find you. I wanted to know if I meant something for you. I couldn't understand why you left me,"

"I'm not a princess. Nor am I a lady. I'm an orphan. Cersei and Margaery treaded me like a servant since my father died. I just wanted to go to the ball, dance the night away, just for once. I couldn't go and I cried at my mothers grave, wishing to go. And my wish was granted, by a ... wizard? He gave me this dress, the opportunity to go. And then you came along. And the magic only worked untill midnight. You couldn't know who I was, I needed to disappear,"

"Why couldn't I know?"  
"Because, Sandor," Sansa cried. "I'm not a princess. You couldn't marry me, I'm nothing more than ... Sansarella, the servant girl,"  
"No your not. Not anymore. You're Sansa, my little bird. And I do want you to marry me,"  
"You don't mean that," 

Her cheeks were wet from her tears. So broken, so fragile she sat nex to him.  
"I do," he said. "I do wish for you to marry me,"

He didn't wait for an answer.  
He lent in and kissed her on her lips. Soft and salty from her crying, but accepting his kiss.   
She accepted him, he knew that. And while carressing eachother and kissing, he heard her say yes.

All happening while Queen Aleanor was peeking trough the keyhole, with a smile in her heart.


	14. The Happy Ending

The news that the Prince got engaged traveled fast.  
Inseparable they were.

Desperatly in love they wanted to marry fast, and married on the first of December.  
The whole country got a day off and people who lived closeby went to the Cathedral of the Seven to see for the Prince and his bride to get married.

In a wedding gown made of spun gold, a bouquet with preserved sunflowers and winter roses Sansa became the princess before the eyes of the Seven gods and the kingdom.

Queen Aleanor, reassured the kingdom would be ruled wise and kind by Sandor and Sansa, gave up the throne to let the young couple rule.  
She stayed in the castle, as much respected advisor and was loved by all.

Cersei and Margaery were punnished for their cruelty and sentenced to a lifetime in the prison kitchens, where they were forced to work with blisters on their feet and their backs aching from hard labour.

In their first public preformance King Sandor and Queen Sansa went to the Red Keep Mansion, wich was confiscated by the throne and turned into an orphanage.  
The children, shy and intimidated by the harsh appearence of the King shuffeld towards eachoter.  
A little boy with dark brown hair and eyes to match came up to Sandor.

He went down on his knees to reach the same height with the little lad.

"They say a mean lion lived here. That thise place is haunted,"  
"Not anymore chap. Got rid of the beast."  
"Is that how you got your scars?"

"TOMAS!" his motherly caretaker warned.  
Sandor laughed.

"Ay mate. Nasty mean beast the lioness was. But I got rid of her. This place is safe. Your new home."  
"So we can go and play?"  
"Ay,"

After that, the children were reassured.  
Tomas and his friends begged King Sandor to tell them the story of how he took care of the lion.  
The garden was filled with childrens laughter and play.

Sansa saw a little girl, with hair much of her own, playing at the swings they installed at the weirwood tree her mother was burried.  
This place, for many years haunted by pain, grief and sorrow, brought her to smile.   
The Red Keep Mansion wouldn't be a place to cry anymore.  
She'd only accepted tears of joy here. It set her mind at peace.

Sandor came running up to her.  
"Impressive tale of the lion my love," Sansa whispered in his ear.  
"Especially how you slammed her against the wall with one hand, quite impressive,"

Sandor laughed.

"I may have exaggerated the story..."  
"I tought you hated liars."  
"I hate liars, yes, but I don't hate good storytellers,"

He wraped his arms around her and Sansa caught him staring at Tomas, who was roaring at his friends in their play.  
"Would you like on of your own?" she asked.  
"Like what?"  
"A son perhaps?"  
"I think I'd like that. As long he doesn't do something stupid like falling in love with a beautifull maiden who runs away after their first kiss,"

She poked him with her elbow. She took his hands, and while watching the children play, she left his hand on her tummy.  
Where a little bump was starting to grow visible against her gown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, don't imagne some Belle golden ballgown dress. It's nothing like that in my head (;
> 
> AND THIS WAS THE VERY MUCH HAPPY ENDING.  
> You liked the story?  
> :D

**Author's Note:**

> YOU LIKED IT ? :3
> 
> Hi there! I'm the new girl in town.  
> I really LOVED all of your stories and I was like, really nervous to starting my own fic, but I kinda give it a go.
> 
> I apoligize for the Sansa Smelly, but I really didn't have any inspiration on how she would get the nickname otherwise.  
> Sorry.
> 
> If you love me, let me know.  
> If you have some advice, let me know.  
> Seriously, I'm not that good in english so I'm happy with constructive feedback. 
> 
> Really hoping we could be WRITING BUDDIES FOR EVAH .


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